All attempts at slander fall by the wayside. I’ve been called many things in my life, by probably a thousand people of varying ages, creeds, social classes, and backgrounds. Perception is one thing, but reality is another. There are a few things I’m absolutely, undoubtedly, wholeheartedly not – boring or dull. Egocentric, probably. Guess what, folks; it’s 2012, no one’s paying my bills but me. It’s easy to be self-centered and self-concerned at this day in time because of the obvious and pressing fact – you can’t succeed without putting yourself out in the spotlight and being about yourself.

You’re probably thinking – “This kid’s really a pompous, self-serving fucking jerk”, huh? You’re 100% right in some respect, I’ll give you that much. Realize this for what it is – it ain’t all sunshine, unicorns, and butterflies, baby. Sometimes shit is real and tough and if you aren’t ready give everything you have to get outta that spot you’re in, you’ll end up being the jaded, miserable, subservient fuckboy anonymously commenting negatively on websites and lofting softball-sized, marshmallow soft slander online. I’m not the type that does anything that everyone is totally cool with. But I’ll be damned if there aren’t billions of people out there, including my readers, that have a collection of bones in their closet that showcases a decision they made that was a bad, bad look.

Some people are mad at the fact that sometimes, just sometimes, I tend to use “I” too much. Would they rather me go straight for the “you” and sound accusatory or perceived as always being content with essentially being a non-factor in something I took the time to craft? Paint pictures of only the frilly and dainty and positive? Three words, mushed together, just the way I speak in real life – fuckouttahere.

Real life is reality. It’s pain, it’s struggle, it’s beauty, it’s joy, it’s whatever we make it. Instead of imagining what my shit would be like sugarcoated and super sweet, go hit that insulin pen. Make sure YOUR life is peaches, cream, picket fences, and good money. Until then, I have free reign to get you to think about real life, paint my portraits and allow you to see things as I see them.

I don’t mind most of the shit people say because I have them talking. Once your ears stop ringing, maybe you needa think about doing something different in your own life instead of tryna shape mine. Any press is good press, unless you’re involved with Penn State. I thrive off and request criticism, like the best ballplayer on the floor – I want to be challenged. But if you can’t give definitive, tangible evidence on your claims or explain why you objectify me specifically, I hope someone sends you spam and you click on it, forever crippling your ability to network in any social capacity, aside from being the creepy dude in the corner at the bar. Other than that, salute.